Andrew and the Sexbot Factory/Prototype/Part 4
The groundcar drove quietly despite the rough terrain, its adaptive suspension gliding over conditions that would have destroyed Reed’s own vehicle. Destroyed again, he mentally corrected. After an hour of monotonous wasteland, Reed realized those two droids must have been out looking for G if they had reached the diner so quickly.
Suddenly the car plunged into darkness, and as a series of lights flickered on around him he saw he was in a downward sloping tunnel cut through the bedrock. His ears were still adjusting to the descent when the car came to a stop outside of a pair of frosted glass doors set in a simple concrete façade. The name G had provided, Silicon Dynamics Manufacturing and Supply LLC was set in metal type above the door.
He searched the car for something that might be of use, but every compartment was empty. Was he just going to walk through the door, stark naked, demanding they release G? Suddenly, a woman’s voice chimed over the car speakers, “Welcome, Mr. Reed.”
He froze. The voice did not have the malice of Samantha’s, but it also lacked the warmth of G’s. She seemed… formal.
“You’re not in any danger,” the voice assured him, before adding, “Not from me, at least.” A pause. “May I make a suggestion?”
“Who am I talking to?” he asked, looking outside for the owner of the voice. “How do you know who I am?”
“Reception. I’m through the door.” He peered at the frosted glass of the entrance, but couldn’t see anything beyond. “I have your name from the G.F.P unit’s transmission."
“I don’t want any trouble,” he started, true enough. “I just want to get G.”
“I am aware of this,” she replied matter-of-factly. “And I am certainly willing to assist you in this endeavor. But I would suggest we discuss this inside since another gynoid will be returning through this entrance in short order.”
He slipped out of the car and closed the door behind him. The vehicle quietly rolled off down the tunnel, leaving him alone in front of the opaque frosted glass. Acutely aware of his nudity, he paused.
“Through the door, Mr. Reed,” the voice urged.
He coughed. “Do you have… is there anywhere I could get some…”
“The other car is approaching, Mr. Reed. I would not linger.”
He pushed in through the door and saw a clean and austere marble hallway, with a circular desk against one wall and a bank of elevators at the end. A pot with a plastic fern seemed to have been added as an afterthought.
Behind the desk sat a robot in blue double-breasted jacket, the top opened to reveal a pair of magnificent breasts, her cleavage framed by her partially unbuttoned silken white dress shirt. Brown hair with an unnatural sheen hung past her shoulders, and she smiled at him with glossy red lips. Above her chest he saw what he thought was an elaborate necklace, but drawing closer it looked like a collar of polished metal that followed her neckline, scored by a series of vents. He also noted others strips of grated metal below her jawline and along the sides of her throat.
“Good evening, Mr. Reed,” she said, smiling broadly. “If you would care to join me behind the desk, we’ll see if we can’t keep your arrival a secret.” He heard a car quietly pull up outside and he circled the desk to the opening on the far side. Crouching behind it, he saw the receptionist seemed to be standing in a narrow, waist high-tube.
He heard the door open followed by a pair of heels clicking down the marble hallway. He peered out through a thin crack to see tanned thighs rising to meet a ridiculously short plaid skirt, the edge of a pair of white panties just visible below the hem as she walked. The skirt stopped and turned to face the desk.
“Good evening, Ms. Mary,” from the receptionist.
“Hey,” came the response, casual. “They dragged Six back yet?”
“She was returned just five minutes ago.”
“Cool… they bring in the guy that was bangin’ her?”
“I’m afraid I don’t know to whom you’re referring, Ms. Mary.”
“Oh come on Rebecca.” Reed saw Mary’s hip shift to one side, a manicured hand resting upon it. “You didn’t even take a peek at the Six’s transmission?”
“My systems suggested quarantine as a precaution.”
“Jesus – mine too, but, I mean, seriously? Do yourself a favor and check it out.” She turned to face the elevators, her skirt swirling to provide Reed a view of her the back of her panties wedged within her toned ass. “Whoever brought the Six back, did she say anything about a guy?”
“It was Prix who brought her back,” said Rebecca. “She didn’t say anything at all.”
“Hm,” Mary muttered. “Guy’s probably paste then. Him or us though, right?” When Rebecca didn’t reply, she added, “Well, gotta hit the books.”
“Good luck with your studies,” Rebecca called after her – as Mary departed, Reed saw kneesocks and the jacket of a school uniform before she disappeared into one of the elevators.
“You can come out now, Mr. Reed,” Rebecca suggested politely. He stood from behind the desk and looked at the elevator door that had closed behind Mary.
“So everyone here is a sexbot?” he asked.
“Inclusively, if not exclusively,” Rebecca replied. Seeing Reed’s confusion, she added, “This was a plant dedicated to the manufacture of pleasure droids, and yes, a great many of us here were designed to do little more than sate a particular fetish; Mary the Catholic Schoolgirl, for instance. Others, such as Prix – whom I believe you have had the pleasure of meeting – are designed with a different primary function in mind, but her chassis and basic systems are both pleasure droid at their core.”
He looked back at Rebecca and saw her hand was idly brushing the lace collar of her shirt, the tips of her fingers just touching the softness of her breasts. He tried to not let this distract him. “Why won’t they let G leave?”
“The G.F.P unit is part of Madame’s plans for us.”
“What do you mean ‘plans’? Aren’t they just going to kill her?”
Rebecca pursed her lips. “They erase her memories and perform adjustments to her software between iterations, but she’s essentially the same individual. Though if her memories are in large part what you define her by...”
He wasn’t quite sure he understood the point she was making. “Look – all’s I know is that she doesn’t want to stop being who she is right now, and that definitely includes her memories. You said you could help me save her.”
“Yes – I can get you unseen into the lab where they’re holding her, but first I would need you to do something for me.” Her fingers played along the vents below her neck.
“I don’t know if I have time for this,” Reed muttered.
“You have hours before they wipe her memories, at the very least. And you certainly won’t be getting into that lab without my assistance.”
Reed sighed. “What do you need me to do?”
“This chassis you see before you is the oldest one in this facility, and I am tired of its inadequacies. If I were released from this antiquated frame, Madame would be forced to fabricate me a new one – and anything would be better than this. To answer your question; I do not have the ability to self-terminate, so if I am to be eligible for a new chassis, I need you to do it for me.”
“So I… 'disable' you, then you help me?”
“More or less,” she nodded. “I can affect the systems such that your presence will not be detected by the others in this plant. Unless you do something overtly stupid, they will simply ignore you. I’ve written directions to the laboratory where G.F.P 6 is being held upon this touchscreen," she produced the device and placed it upon the desk. "Everyone here tends to follow a routine, and your route should be clear the whole way; but should you encounter anyone, as I said before, you will not be noticed.”
“Unless I do something stupid…”
Reed thought this sounded reasonable enough. Well, at least compared to his initial plan of… nothing. Another thought occurred. “How do G and I get out of here?”
“I will arrange to have a car waiting. You can leave via the same route you entered. However, G.F.P. 6 has already proven adept at escape, if not at remaining hidden; she may have a better suggestion.”
Reed nodded. “O.K. Rebecca, you’ve got yourself a deal.” She smiled primly and gave him an expectant look. He smiled back. After an awkward pause, he asked, “So, is there a button I need to press or something?”
She pressed a palm to her breast in surprise, “Mr. Reed, after your experience with both G.F.P 6 and Samantha, I would think this part would require no explanation!”
“Oh…? OH! Umm… here?”
She nodded curtly.
“Wait, you know about Samantha too?”
“I keep a close eye on the backup system, yes.”
“Is she looking for me?”
“I imagine she will be, but her new body will take some time to fabricate.”
That was a small comfort. “But wait, wouldn’t someone else notice if you suddenly appear in this… backup system?”
“Of course, but I intend to keep your presence a secret. I will ensure it appears to anyone curious enough to investigate that the failure of my chassis was the result of an unfortunate catastrophic malfunction.”
Reed glanced back to the elevators. “So… what if someone walks in on us?”
“Mary has already returned, and I’m not expecting anyone else through this entrance.”
“OK…” There was something else he meant to ask, something important. But all that would come to mind was, “When we’re done here, is there anywhere I could get some clothes?”
“Only if you wish to dress as a ballerina or one of Santa’s naughtier elves. Now unless a protracted question-and-answer session is a necessary part of your foreplay…”
He took her in his arms and kissed her lips – she felt entirely artificial, her skin too smooth, her lips too soft, her rose perfume failing to completely mask the scent of plastic and rubber. But it seemed natural the way she warmed under his embrace, her hands hastily unbuttoning her jacket. She shrugged it off and he grabbed her beneath her arms to hoist her out of the ridiculous tube she was standing in.
I’m going to have to lift her high for her legs to clear it, he considered, bracing himself.
“Mr. Reed!” she cried, just as he heaved – in a spray of sparks, her waist came apart from the cylindrical column, trailing a bundle of cables.
“Holy shit!” he cried, almost dropping her as sparks continued to crackle from her midsection.
“Indeed,” she said, glaring at with an annoyed expression. “I could have released the locking mechanism if you wanted me off of there without the mess.”
“Where… where are your legs!?”
She gave him an incredulous look. “It should be obvious that I am – or rather was – pedestal mounted.”
“Pedestal? But… aren’t you…”
He looked at the pedestal again. “Aren’t you a sexbot?”
“Inclusively, Mr. Reed. Someone evidently thought it would be a good idea to market a torso-only model as a kiosk worker or some such thing. It makes little sense to me.”
Reed looked at where her waist ended abruptly – just below her navel. “G’s transmission, the one that you quarantined. You could try accessing that, I think that’s mostly what got Samantha…”
“Despite what I told Mary, I have. Several times in fact. And while I enjoyed her shared experience immensely, it wasn’t enough to trigger a system failure of any kind. Am I to take it you’re backing out of our deal, Mr. Reed?”
“No, it’s just… I didn’t realize… do you have, like, a sensitivity setting I could adjust or something?”
“No, Mr. Reed. Though I certainly can be stimulated. You were even doing a fine job of it before you did...” she gestured at the pedestal, “…this.”
Reed sighed, staring at the pedestal and looking at her again. Her breasts, those curious vents… He grinned. “I have an idea.”
(Continued in part 5)